


Boys On Film

by preciouslittletime



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Background Lee Seokmin | DK/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Cam Boy AU, Exhibitionism, M/M, Minor Kim Mingyu/Yoon Jeonghan, Multi, Oral Sex, POV Kim Mingyu, Sex Toys, Shibari, Threesome - M/M/M, Unhealthy Breakup Coping Mechanisms, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittletime/pseuds/preciouslittletime
Summary: He’s not sure how he would even go about explaining the situation to them even if he wanted to.Hey guys, you’re my best friends in the entire world so I think it’s fair to tell you that I have this weird infatuation with a camboy whose real name I don’t even know. I also don’t have any idea where he lives, and he has no idea who I am. Oh and he has, what I assume to be, a boyfriend! But don’t worry! He’s totally helping me get over my horrible breakup!
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 35
Kudos: 273





	Boys On Film

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's me again, back writing whatever ideas people talk about on the twitter tl. This one came from Ariana, everyone say thanks, Ariana.
> 
> I edited this myself so excuse any mistakes.

Mingyu is in one of his moods (as Minghao calls them) and he wants to slam his head through the wall at 2:37 A.M. on a Wednesday night. It’s pouring outside his apartment window and he’s the only lit room on the entire block, the only one who’s written six essays in the last forty-eight hours, and the only one with his hand down his pants just because he needs to exert some energy.

Masturbating isn’t his first choice. It’s not even his second.

The first choice is to open Instagram, go to his ex’s profile, watch all his stories because he posts at least thirty a day, get angry, maybe cry, hate him for being able to move on so fast.

The second is to outright text his ex, tell him he misses him, tell him that he’s so fucking alone, tell him that three years was stupid to give up on, tell him how much he misses kissing him and fucking him and --

So yeah, masturbating is a better option. By leaps. By bounds.

He’s got his phone balanced on his chest and forefinger, flicking his thumb across the screen to spell out the name of some porn website in the search bar. He hasn’t watched this much porn since high school. Typically, he’d have a boyfriend, and if he didn’t have the culmination of an internship and two majors and a minor breathing down his neck two weeks into winter term, he’d probably just go out and try to hook up with somebody. 

It served him right for thinking he could handle it. Not that he’d had the foresight to know his boyfriend of three years was going to drop an atom bomb on their relationship nine weeks into their senior year. 

The website loads and his palm is dry as it drags over his skin. His laptop is discarded by his leg, last paper on the screen, half written, and he has to be quiet, so he doesn’t wake up Seokmin and Minghao in their bedroom down the hall. 

There’s a video on the front page. First thing he sees. Number one on trending. It’s a guy. He’s compact, hair dyed a deep ocean blue, on his knees on the floor, with a camera angled downwards. 

He clicks it. 

That’s where it starts.

**_▶ Hoshi OnlyFans Reupload (6:34)_ **

All he can see at first is the guy - Hoshi? - standing up straight and facing away from the camera. He’s naked, ass on display, toned legs disappearing out of frame. He’s mumbling something and a voice off screen answers him.

“They want to know how long you’ve had the plug in,” the voice says. It’s a deep tone, enough to make Mingyu’s earbuds rattle in his ears. 

Hoshi mumbles again, shifting on his feet. 

“Speak up, baby. They can’t hear you.”

“For an hour. You could just tell them yourself, you know.” 

The voice says something quietly and Hoshi turns around. He’s cute, with his tousled blueberry colored hair and his round cheeks all ruddy. He’s fully hard, cock red and straining up to his stomach. With a sigh he goes to wrap a hand around it, making eye contact with the person who’s speaking off screen and then pouts as he drops a hand obediently. 

“On your knees,” the voice says. 

Hoshi gets down, and there's the tinkling bell sound of notifications of the chat between the _thunk thunk_ of footsteps on a wood floor. The camera adjusts and is angled downwards so Hoshi is forced to look upwards. He’s resting the backs of his thighs on his heels with his knees spread, squirming against the plug in his ass so his cock bobs with each desperate pass of his hips. Mingyu curls his hand around his own dick, squeezing a little harder than he means to.

“You look good down there. I bet they all think so, too,” the voice hums. The chat starts ringing with notifications immediately. Hoshi preens, smiling a big toothy grin so his eyes crinkle up and he makes a show of shifting his hips again, fucking into the air.

“You all really think I look good?” he asks, and his smile goes from sweet to cutting. “Then tell JW to stop being an ass and let me come.” 

The voice - JW - laughs, low and deep from his belly. “Don’t play them against me. That’s not fair.”

Hoshi squints up his eyes again. “But you listen to them more than you listen to me. And I am so hard right now I think I’m going to pass out.”

Off-screen JW shifts again and then his hand appears on screen holding out a purple vibrator in Hoshi’s direction. His face lights up like he’s receiving a Christmas present and he leans so close to the lens to take it his profile takes up the entire frame of the video before he settles back into the position from before. 

“In your mouth first,” JW says. He sounds further away now. “Suck on it.”

Hoshi smirks and drags the tip of the purple vibrator over his lips. He flutters his eyelashes so charmingly and licks the tips as he stares straight into the camera, hips still working upwards to get the faintest friction from the plug. 

He takes it into his mouth half-way and then stops, opens his lips just a bit to show his tongue working around it in tight circular motions, his lips already wet. Mingyu hisses in time with JW off screen and he wonders if they’re both working a hand over their cocks. 

“Take your plug out with your other hand,” JW instructs. “Slowly. Don’t get over excited and hurt yourself, please. And don’t stop sucking.”

Hoshi nods around the plastic dick in his mouth and moans as his other hand slips behind his hip. The lean muscles of his bicep twitch and JW groans. 

“What are you doing? Are you pushing it in?” he asks. Hoshi nods, again, and he swallows around the vibrator before pulling it back out with an obscene pop. 

“Can I move a bit?” he asks. He manages to look fucked out just from having a fake cock between his lips for fifteen seconds. JW makes an affirmative noise off screen and Hoshi shifts around so his back can rest against the wall behind him and his legs can spread wide. Mingyu groans too loud when he sees the orange flared base of a plug revealed by the position and he yanks out an earbud so he can gauge his volume better.

Hoshi shoves the vibrator back in his mouth and starts working at it again in earnest. His hand slides down against his own chest like he’s making a show of it, gripping at his own thigh, shoving a thumb up against the base of the plug to grind down on it. After a moment of teasing himself, he pinches the base and slowly, slowly pulls it out with a sigh. Mingyu is so focused on Hoshi’s lower hand he doesn’t even notice that the upper hand has the vibrator shoved down his throat until he hears the choked off sound of him swallowing around it.

“Fuck yourself with it,” JW says tightly. “Low setting. Show them how good you can take it.”

“But,” Hoshi pouts. “Please...can I just come? Please?” He slides the vibrator downwards, a low hum from the way it’s been switched on and teases it around his nipples before circling around his rim. “Tell him I should be able to come,” he says to the camera, to the audience watching him. The way the sentiment travels to Hoshi’s eyes makes Mingyu feel as if he’s being spoken to directly and there is the briefest flash of dominance that makes him want to tell Hoshi _no_.

The chat starts ringing and JW grumbles. “You are such a little....you wanted me to tease you.”

Hoshi laughs and it cuts off with a soft moan, his hips pumping upwards. “Yeah and you’re not committing, _Jay Double-U._ ” He says the other man’s name like a taunt. 

“Fine,” JW says. “If you wanna be like that you can’t use your hands to come. Just the vibrator.”

Hoshi freezes and gapes up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“What? I’ve seen you come untouched on my dick plenty of times.” The chat starts ringing.

“That was…” Hoshi squirms as he slides the vibrator inside of himself. Immediately the muscles in his thighs contract, toes curling, eyes flickering shut. He fucks himself slowly, deliberately, and rests his head backwards against the wall so the column of his throat is exposed to the camera. “It’s different when it’s you.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Mm well, your dick bigger than this stupid thing,” Hoshi sighs.

“Yeah? What else.” A pause. “Slowly. All the way in and all the way out. There, that’s better.”

Hoshi keens and shoves the vibrator inside himself to the base. His hips twitch and then he slides it out, body chasing it as if he isn’t the one controlling the pace with his own hand. 

“You fuck me faster than this. That also helps.” He says spikily. 

“You want to go faster?” 

“Yeah.” He opens his eyes over the tip of his nose. “Please, please let me go faster.” 

“Get up on your knees and ride it. Then you can go faster.”

Mingyu has to bite on his thumb. Hoshi scrambles to his knees again, not once taking out the vibrator, and settles down on it with a fluid roll of his hips. The position must hit him _just_ right because he shakes all over and bears down on it again with rough snap of his hips. One hand holds the base steady and the other settles backwards so he can angle it right to his prostate.

“There you go,” JW hums. “That better? That feel good?”

“Y-yeah,” Hoshi gasps. His eyes roll backwards, and he bucks his hips forward so rapidly that his cock drips precome onto the floor. 

“You look so good, baby. They say so, too. You like when they tell you that you look good with a cock in you?”

Hoshi whines, high and needy, fucking himself so hard and fast that he’s violently shaking with each pass. His eyes widen and his mouth catches open and Mingyu comes in his sweats before Hoshi does. 

The orgasm hits him in his bedroom like a car just crashed through the wall. He gulps down air, trying to urgently suck back the moans that are threatening to explode out of his chest. Under the sheets his legs are sweating, and his phone has slid off his stomach to tangle in with the blankets at his side. But his headphones are still connected, and he can hear how Hoshi is getting more and more frantic, JW off screen goading him and telling him how good he takes it. 

Hearing Hoshi come without seeing it is still shocking to Mingyu’s senses. He yanks out his other earbud, still trying to catch his breath, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan making endless, lazy revolutions.

Like...he’s watched porn before. Obviously. But.

This was bizarre. This felt oddly personal. _Enthralling_? Not the word. Maybe something else. 

He takes out his hand and slides off the bed to stumble into the ensuite. When he looks in the mirror his cheeks are pink, hair ruffled from how he’s been writhing in the bed, lips fat from biting them so hard. There’s that awkward, after-masturbation shame in his eyes that make his reflection a little difficult to take in.

So, he ignores it. Ignores himself. Ignores Hoshi’s eyes begging to come straight into the camera and his toothy smile, and he writes his fucking essay so he can go to sleep.

The feeling passes.

◼

It’s two weeks later and Mingyu is shuffling into the library with coffee in one hand, his laptop in the other, and his student ID wedged between his teeth. Seokmin pats his ass playfully before heading up the steps to their usual table and Mingyu beelines of the circulation desk.

There’s the normal guy there, Wonwoo. Not that he’s ever shared his name vocally, but his name tag says it in big block letters. He’s quiet, but nice, with his pseudo-goth swooping haircut and stylishly outdated round framed glasses. He barely even looks up at Mingyu from his Nintendo Switch before when he taps the Modern World History textbook on the counter.

“Just leave your ID,” he says and Mingyu peeks over the counter to see him obliterating a mid-jump Genji with a headshot. 

“You knew I’d be here?” Mingyu replies. He’s still leaning over the counter, still watching the guy pick off the opposing team one by one.

“You’re a very regimented person. Tuesdays at 2:00 P.M. you’re always here. I just figured I’d get the book ready, so I don’t have to get up to get it,” he stops playing, glances up to Mingyu and smirks. 

“Oh,” Mingyu says a little dumbstruck. “Cool. Thanks.”

“You could just buy it you know?”

“Overwatch?”

“The textbook.”

“Oh, uh,” Mingyu rubs at his neck. “The bookstore was out, and I hardly get any work done at my apartment so...it’s better if I come here. I get distracted really easy.”

Wonwoo looks back down at his game in time for a Pharrah to blast his Windowmaker into the air with a well-placed rocket. He mutters a curse under his breath and rolls his eyes.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says. “Didn’t mean to distract you.”

Wonwoo offers a tiny, apologetic smile. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t be playing on the job anyways. And I’m not calling you out for coming in. Mi biblioteca, es su biblioteca.” Wonwoo frowns at himself, blanching at his own joke. Mingyu laughs genuinely. 

“I won’t tell,” Mingyu swears. “I’ll have the book back in two hours.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Take your time, I know where to find you.”

Seokmin is at the table behind the stacks of Russian literature - their table. The prized little section of the library smells like dust, but it’s got a big window and Seokmin likes to sit in the sun. His ex had liked the spot, too. He’s glad he at least got library rights in the break-up.

They study for hours, literally. By the time Seokmin is ready to leave the sun has set and Mingyu has only just moved on from History reading to his Marketing revising. Seokmin pats his head, promises to bring him a tupperware of whatever Minghao has cooking, and leaves him to his devices.

His devices, however, are this.

For two entire weeks he’s been rewatching that video. Not the whole time, not every day. But sometimes he gets an itch to see Hoshi again at 4 AM when he’s up early to head to the gym before class, or while he should be napping between class and his internship. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s watching Hoshi simulate a blowjob, he might think he has a crush. 

He does, sort of. It’s difficult to apply logic to the situation. All he knows is he’s been thinking about Hoshi a lot more than he’s been thinking about his ex and that’s something worth exploring.

But, today is different. Today, when he wakes up and goes to look for the video on the site, it’s gone.

He slides his Marketing notes aside and pushes his laptop across the table so he can dig in. One look left, one look right, and Mingyu confirms that nobody is near enough to him to suspect what he’s doing is looking up actual fucking porn on his phone in a public space. 

Well - not porn, really. An OnlyFans account.

On the app splash page, he creates his account, inputs his debit card, uses the username Gyu44. It’s probably the first time Mingyu has ever _considered_ paying for porn. He’s not planning on paying for it consistently. Really, he’s only planning on paying for one month at best, just to satisfy this weird obsessive curiosity that makes him feel like the proverbial cat that is about to get itself killed.

Hoshi is easy to find. It’s not a common name. And he’s seen Hoshi’s toothy smile so many times that he recognizes it immediately in the profile picture.

@hoshii is $20 per month. A steal, realistically. Mingyu subscribes, hard-closes the app before the profile reloads for full access, and calls Seokmin.

“Hey,” he says into the phone. “Don’t worry about bringing me food, I’m on my way home.”

“ _Oh…are you sure? I thought you still had a lot to do.”_

“Do you not want me home,” Mingyu fake pouts, packing up his backpack.

“ _No! No, it’s just…it’ll be nice to have you here for dinner for once.”_ He can hear the relief in Seokmin’s voice and he smiles.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It will be.”

◼

He doesn’t look at Hoshi’s full profile for twenty-four hours.

It’s not like he’s scared. 

Because he’s not _scared,_ he’s nervous.

Something about knowing that Hoshi has more than just that _one_ video. That there are multiple videos and pictures and who knows what else to be found on his profile. Mingyu is nervous, because even when he waits twenty-four hours, he keeps thinking about it. All through dinner the night before, all through his studying, all through class, all through getting coffee for his bosses and sorting files at his internship.

He’s nervous, because he knows he has an addictive personality. Obsessive even. Like he finds one thing to hyper fixate on to create a beaded string of obsessions to measure the major moments of his life.

Once he’d dropped $2,000 on a camera because he got obsessed with the idea of being a filmmaker when he was eighteen – the same year his parents got a divorce. He’d spent the whole summer after his sophomore year of high school learning how to skateboard just because he watched literally thirty-five minutes of the X Games – around the same time he was realizing he was gay. When he met Minghao he’d bought so many painting supplies that collect dust in the back of his closet now – around the same time he first met his ex-boyfriend.

Those were far more innocent coping mechanisms. This was not.

Mingyu is laying on his bed at 4:45 P.M. when he gets the notification. His phone buzzes and the banner pops up. 

He looks at his door, shut to the noise of Seokmin and Minghao watching some Netflix documentary in the living room, and slides in his headphones against his own better judgement.

**_▶ @hoshii is live_ **

Hoshi is on a bed and there’s sunlight slatted across his bare chest where hot pink ropes dig patterns into his skin. Mingyu groans at the sight, because he’s already getting hard just looking at Hoshi squirming in the restraints.

Hoshi’s not only tied up across his chest, but his arms and thighs are bound, too. The magenta of his hair and the redness of his cheeks and the pink of the ropes is like the gradient of the sun setting and somehow, he just manages to look cute, aside from how indecent the video subject matter is.

JW’s sweatpants-covered legs peek out from under Hoshi with the way he’s seated on his lap. There’s still no way to see the guy’s face, but he can see his hand, slicked up with an almost unnecessary amount of lube, working in painfully soft strokes down Hoshi’s cock. Hoshi laughs breathlessly, fucks up into his fist and squirms in his lap. Behind him, JW yanks on the rope in warning and Hoshi stills until he softens backwards into him.

“Sorry,” Hoshi breathes. He doesn’t look very sorry at all.

Mingyu yanks his own pants down and works over himself dry, hand matching the pace that JW has set. The sound of JW’s hand is obscene and Hoshi is hiccupping out these pathetic little sounds from the way JW won’t give him any more than the laziest pace possible.

JW whispers so quietly that Mingyu has to turn up the volume.

“Fuck my hand,” JW says and Mingyu flops backwards on the bed as if he’s been given the command, too. Hoshi smiles around his open mouth and then grits his teeth when he slams his hips upwards as best as he can around the ropes.

“That’s good,” JW sighs. “Get yourself off on my hand, baby.”

Mingyu fucks himself in time with Hoshi, slow and heavily restrained as if he’s bound up, too. Hoshi is smiling around his open mouth, trying as hard as he can to set a rhythm despite how restricted his movements are. Mingyu has never, _never_ been into any kind of bondage, but this is, somehow, one of the hottest things he’s ever seen in his entire life.

Hoshi makes the ropes look _good_. Normally porn with this kind of stuff is dark, and nasty, and forced. Hoshi just looks happy, pretty as a picture, biting his lip and smiling as he works himself into JW’s hand. He looks at the camera from under the fan of his eyelashes, blinks like he’s so delighted to have an audience, and Mingyu feels like he’s having the air punched out of his stomach just from how stunning Hoshi is when he acknowledges he’s being watched. 

Mingyu comes with Hoshi this time.

JW holds him still, fists at his cock fast and messy, the sound of the lube on his palms louder than Hoshi’s rapid gulps of air. Mingyu meets the pace, comes with a jolt when Hoshi shudders, JW’s arm draped lovingly across his chest, Hoshi’s eyes blinking fast and voice cracking as he cries out. Hoshi laughs as the waves move through him and his nose scrunches up and he looks right at the camera and bites his lip like he’s showing off. 

The video ends with JW’s hand fishing for the camera. He knocks it around and Hoshi’s laughing, calling him names, and JW is snorting out laughter, too.

Mingyu stares at the ceiling, alone, until he can catch his breath.

◼

Hoshi’s profile is relatively new, as it turns out, but he posts frequently.

It’s not all overtly sexual. Though much of the content does dance on that line.

Sometimes it’s just a selfie with a funny caption: Hoshi’s face from the nose up at the very bottom of the frame with Ariana Grande “Side to Side” lyrics. Or him putting funny filters on his pictures.

Sometimes they’re a little more suggestive: Hoshi standing profiled in front of a full-length mirror, completely naked, leg tastefully covering his dick, sunshine lighting up his skin and his freshly bleached hair. Or JW kneeling behind him, clearly eating him out, and Hoshi holding the camera to capture the expression on his face as he does.

Mingyu spends an hour scrolling through his profile, liking every post, commenting heart emojis or wide eyed emojis on the ones he liked most. It’s not as if it would matter to Hoshi. He has so many comments anyways, Mingyu doubts he even reads them. They’re usually a blend of over the top compliments, some less savory than others, some letting Hoshi know how jealous they are of JW for getting to have him for himself. Mingyu could at least commiserate with those ones.

So, he had a crush. Yes. Unfortunately. _But_ it was still better than looking at his ex’s Instagram stories and that was progress in and of itself. 

“You’re acting weird,” Minghao says as they walk through the glass revolving door of the library.

“Am I?” Mingyu replies, scrunching up his eyebrows. He has never had a good poker face, but he’s especially readable when it comes to Minghao. 

“Yes,” Minghao nods. He squeezes Seokmin’s hand. “What do you think? He’s being weird, right?”

Seokmin nods. Mingyu will never know if Seokmin _did_ suspect anything. He’s empathetic enough. But he’s also in love with Minghao enough to reflexively agree with whatever he says. Mingyu huffs, walks one step ahead to the circulation desk.

“I’m fine,” he argues. “Just busy.”

Wonwoo eyes him from where he’s putting books on a cart far behind the counter, Mingyu gives him a cursory smile and Wonwoo points at the clock. It’s Tuesday at 11:30 A.M. Not his typical time, Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow.

“You know if it’s about....you know.... _him_...you can tell us,” Seokmin says softly. He slides a hand up and down Mingyu’s back, squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. “I know you do that _I have to deal with everything on my own_ thing, but you don’t.”

Mingyu glances up at the ceiling. He’s not sure how he would even go about explaining the situation to them even if he wanted to. _Hey guys, you’re my best friends in the entire world so I think it’s fair to tell you that I have this weird infatuation with a camboy whose real name I don’t even know. I also don’t have any idea where he lives, and he has no idea who I am. Oh and he has, what I assume to be, a boyfriend! But don’t worry! He’s totally helping me get over my horrible break up!_

It sounds stupid just to put it into words inside of his own head.

“You’re early today,” Wonwoo comments with a small smile. He stands behind the desk, textbook tucked against his chest, palms covered up to his fingers by the sleeves of his sweater. “Hey, Minghao. Hey, Seokmin.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu rubs his neck. “My lab got cancelled.” Mingyu pauses, looks over his shoulder. “Wait, you guys know him?”

Minghao nods. “We know his boyfriend. Soonyoung. I take dance at his studio, Seokmin had a couple classes with him.”

Mingyu narrows his eyes. He hadn’t even considered Wonwoo was gay, which is a surprise. But more so, he’s surprised that at a school with tens of thousands of people, in a city with millions of people, that it always seems like every gay person he knows is interconnected like some fucked up family tree. This ostensibly means that Wonwoo - and Soonyoung - probably know all about his breakup like most people did.

Seokmin beams. “How is Soonyoungie? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Wonwoo’s face softens in a way that Mingyu has never seen. It’s not as if he knows him personally, and he’s never interacted with him outside the context of his work, but this is a Wonwoo that shocks him. He blushes, pushes his glasses up with his thumb and smiles at the floor. “He’s uh...he’s good. Always busy at the studio, like normal. We’re going to see his parents in a few weeks for spring break.”

Seokmin wriggles his eyebrows, wraps a bulky, possessive arm around Minghao’s middle. “Have you met his parents before?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Nope, so it’s...a big deal. But you know Soonyoung, he’s acting like it isn’t.” 

Minghao gives a wise nod, a hum of agreement.

Mingyu is curious how he’s never met Soonyoung before, despite living with Minghao and Seokmin for almost four years. Specifically, how they know him well enough for Wonwoo to use the phrase _you know Soonyoung_ in conversation.

Wonwoo shrugs and hands Mingyu the textbook. “By the way I ordered another copy of this so you can start hanging onto that one longer.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, taken aback by the gesture. “Thanks, that’s uh…”

“Thoughtful,” Minghao supplies. 

“Yeah.” Mingyu agrees numbly. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says with a strange half smile. 

They’re halfway up the stairs to their usual spot when Minghao asks the questions Mingyu is already bracing himself for. Minghao takes hold of Mingyu’s hand, whispers into his ear to respectfully adhere to the volume rules. “So, is that why you’re acting weird?” he asks.

“What? Because of Wonwoo?” Mingyu whispers, laughing.

“Yeah…” Seokmin smirks. “It kind of looks like you were flirting, Gyu. _And_ you looked shocked when he mentioned having a boyfriend.” He pokes at Mingyu’s side and Mingyu snorts.

It could be easier to just say yes to this, because it would completely throw both of the metaphorical bloodhounds off the scent of his real issue. Except Mingyu is not a strategist and the idea doesn’t pop unto his head until after he says: “Not even close. And I was shocked, because I _live_ with you two and somehow have never met this Soonyoung guy.”

Minghao doesn’t look convinced. He pauses, staring straight at Mingyu with his polygraph-test gaze. Mingyu passes and Minghao shrugs. “He started his own dance studio when we were all Juniors, but he worked at a studio before that.”

“He’s always super busy. Like...all the time,” Seokmin adds. “The only time I would see him was in classes before he dropped out of school.”

“So, what’s the deal with him and Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks.

A girl shushes the three of them as they walk past. Seokmin whispers an apology.

“They’ve been together since freshman year,” Minghao whispers. “Wonwoo is pretty quiet. I don’t know him as well as I know Soonyoung. Plus he’s a total hermit.”

Once they reach their table, Mingyu settles into working. At 2 P.M. he sees a notification from Hoshi on OnlyFans. It’s a picture, another selfie, and this time he’s clothed. Just Hoshi’s chubby cheeked face smiling at the camera with a popsicle against his bottom lip. 

**_@hoshii: Who else wishes Summer could be all year?_ **

Mingyu’s stomach flips like he’s getting a text from a boy he likes. He stares at the photo, at Hoshi’s bottom lip stained red from the artificial flavoring.

When he looks up Minghao is staring at him curiously, but happily. Mingyu locks his phone and gets back to work. 

;

Hoshi’s upload schedule is about as chaotic as his personality. Which is to say. Very chaotic.

There’s at least one instance where Mingyu is in class and the person next to him notices that an OnlyFans notification pops up on his phone. The guy gives him a knowing smirk, shakes his head as he turns back to the lecture. Mingyu is so embarrassed that he ends up leaving class early and never sits next to the guy again. 

Midterms are a particular sort of hell this term considering Mingyu had left so many of his Gen Ed requirements for his senior year like an idiot. Between hours at the library and hours in his bedroom trying to cram relevant dates for World War I into his head, he hardly even sees Minghao or Seokmin, besides the day of Seokmin’s birthday.

This is by design of course. They bring him food, do his laundry, stay so quiet that half the time Mingyu isn’t even sure they’re home. Best friends he’s ever had.

Hoshi becomes a strangely bright and welcome surprise throughout the day. It’s almost like he knows Mingyu is in the seventh circle of hell, somehow knows to ramp up the sexual content of his posts to help Mingyu ease the tension. 

There’s one Saturday where he’s trying his hardest to get through a project for Marketing that Hoshi starts posting pictures at 11:30 A.M. 

**_@hoshii: guess what came in the mail today_ **

The first his him leaning on a brick building, sunglasses on, hair now colored a dark green. He’s got an iced coffee in one hand, the other in the pocket of his high-waisted, light wash jeans. The cropped t-shirt he’s wearing is plain white and has the sleeves cut-off and just underneath the bottom hem there’s the unmistakable glint of body jewelry. 

Mingyu freezes, tries to zoom in to see what he’s got on, but before he can another picture is uploaded. 

**_@hoshii: maybe you can see it more with a better picture_ **

This time he appears to be back home. At least Mingyu hopes he is. He’s completely shirtless lying on the floor with his arms above his head. He’s still got on his jeans, the waistband barely visible in the frame. What is visible, however, is the loose glittering chain around his belly. He’s got his lip between his teeth, smiling at JW (presumably) behind the camera like he’s daring him to do something.

**_@hoshii: this one is good too_ **

Hoshi is still on his back in the next picture, only this time the camera is closer. The pretty chain around his stomach is slid upwards as if it’s been moved. Now, instead his lip between his teeth, it’s two of JW’s long fingers. Hoshi is still smiling, eyes still twinkling just as bright as the crystalline chain around his waist. Mingyu sighs.

He wonders what it’s like to know Hoshi in real life. How magnetic he must be. Just in a picture he’s got this energy that draws Mingyu in despite his own better judgement. He draws in a lot of people, based on the way his picture already has ninety-seven likes after less than two minutes. 

Mingyu is no stranger to wanting attention, but he’s never had the level of charisma that Hoshi does. Like, yes, obviously he’s aware of what he looks like. He’s not blind and neither are most guys based on how jealous his ex used to get.

Hoshi is different. It’s not just about the way he looks. Hoshi is like a flame where people draw their warmth. People are willing to shove their hands close enough to get burned and Hoshi lets them. He thrives on it.

**_▶ @hoshii is live_ **

JW is holding the camera over Hoshi’s face, Hoshi is on his knees, and Mingyu is so glad his door is shut. The camera angle has his mind racing immediately, makes it feel like Hoshi is on his knees in front of _him_ and not JW. Mingyu shivers.

“What are you doing?” JW asks, voice husky and close to the microphone. Hoshi is sliding his fingers up and down the zipper of JW’s jeans. He shrugs, impish smirk on his face. 

“Nothing.”

“It looks like something,” JW grumbles. “Are you gonna suck my dick? In front of all these people? It’s not even noon.”

Hoshi laughs, narrows his eyes. He works JW’s zipper open, pops the button and mouths over his cock through his underwear. JW groans above him and Hoshi smiles triumphantly. “I don’t see you complaining.” He flattens his tongue, licks a long stripe up the tent of the fabric. “Besides, it was your idea, you liar.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t say yes immediately.” 

Mingyu is going to chew a hole through his bottom lip. Hoshi pulls down JW’s underwear, sneers as he opens his mouth and lets his tongue curl around JW’s dick. The camera shifts and Hoshi takes him in one hand.

“Feels so good,” JW whispers. He pushes Hoshi’s deep green bangs off his forehead. Hoshi looks up at him with wide eyes, the briefest moment where his smarmy persona cracks and exposes the soft part of him hiding underneath. Mingyu’s breath stutters when he sees the adoration in his eyes. 

Hoshi sucks him down and Mingyu works his pants down enough to get a hand on himself. He’s already watched Hoshi suck on a toy, but this is something so different. Hoshi gives a single-minded focus to JW and is significantly messier and louder than he’d been with the vibrator. JW’s breathing is unevenly and Mingyu feels almost sympathetic. He’s not sure he’d be able to last more than a couple minutes if somebody was blowing him like that.

“They’re saying your mouth is so good,” JW says. Mingyu can see the comments filtering through faster than he can read them. JW must be incredible at multitasking.

“Yeah?” Hoshi says, letting JW’s cock fall out of his mouth. He slides his mouth up the side of the shaft, making a loud sucking noise as he moves up and down. “What about you? Does it feel good?” Hoshi blinks, blunt eyelashes fluttering.

“You already know the answer,” JW laughs. “Put just the head in your mouth.” 

Hoshi complies, hollows his cheeks. JW clutches a fist in his hair, firm, but gentle. He pumps his hips in slowly. “Let me fuck your mouth?” he asks, and Hoshi sighs an assent.

Mingyu’s hips are faltering into his hand. He can barely keep his eyes open to watch Hoshi choke around JW, but he can see the spit running down his chin, the light reflected in his dark eyes. He looks at JW expectantly when his soft moans get more urgent, higher, a tone so distant from the normal tenor of his deep voice. 

JW comes on Hoshi’s face and Mingyu has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t make noise. He pumps his hips into his fist, comes just as Hoshi pushes the come on his cheek into his mouth with two fingers.

“Babe,” JW groans. “You’re…”

“Good? Best head of your life? I suck dick like a pro?” Hoshi laughs.

“You’re so annoying. That’s what I was going to say.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

;

“It’s freezing.”

Mingyu walks into the living room the first week of March and it shouldn’t be this this late into winter 

Seokmin is bundled under three blankets in Minghao’s lap, the two of them seemingly conserving body heat. They look up at Mingyu and Seokmin offers the corner of the blanket so he can join the cocoon of warmth they’ve set up in their frigid apartment. Mingyu doesn’t care if he’s still in his work slacks, he practically dives underneath the blankets at the invitation.

Being snuggled up against them is nice, aside from the relief their warm bodies provide. Mingyu likes physical touch, enjoys the feeling of security another person can provide. He doesn’t even realize how much he’s missed it until he’s laying with them on the couch. He doesn’t even realize how much he had it before and how much he’d been shying away from Seokmin and Minghao constantly offering it.

“How was work?” Minghao asks sweetly. He pushes his hands through Mingyu’s pomade slicked hair and Seokmin throws an arm over his belly.

“It’s only work, if I’m getting paid,” Mingyu gripes. “And it’s not as bad anymore now that I’m in the final stretch.” He couldn’t wait to not be an unpaid intern anymore. At least he was getting a glowing letter of recommendation out of being bossed around by middle-aged marketing supervisors for 20 weeks. 

“Is that why you’ve been in a better mood?” Seokmin asks. “Because you’re almost out of purgatory.”

“Have I been in a better mood lately?” Mingyu glances up at the two of them as best as he can from the position his twisted into to fit his big body on the small couch.

Minghao nods, scratches his scalp. “Better than you’ve been. We’ve been trying to figure out why.” 

“But I’ve barely been out of my room?” 

“But you’re also snuggling up with us for the first time since November. Plus, Seokmin thinks so and you know he has a sense for these things,” Minghao smiles, kissing Seokmin’s hair and Seokmin beams. 

Mingyu gives them an unconvinced smile. “I guess.” A warmth blooms in his chest at the idea of progress. Like he’s been climbing a mountain and he hasn’t been looking at the top. Now he’s taking a break to make camp and he realizes how far he’s climbed.

“What changed?” Minghao asks.

It’s the same a tricky question from the library a few weeks before and unspooling it in his head makes a mess. He’s been so busy he hasn’t had much time to dwell on his ex, which is a simple explanation. But also, there’s...well…

“Is it whoever you’ve been texting?” Seokmin asks. 

Mingyu freezes. “Huh?”

Seokmin wriggles a finger in his face, “Don’t think I haven’t seen it. Your phone goes off sometimes and you smile so big your cheeks look like they’re about to break.”

“Have I?”

“Yes,” Minghao and Seokmin answer together. Mingyu hadn’t even realized he was being so obvious.

“It’s nothing. Just…”

Minghao squeezes comforting patterns of his fingers into Mingyu’s neck, something like a half-hearted massage. Mingyu huffs, loosens like a cat being stroked.

“You know you can tell us anything, Mingyu,” Minghao says. “If there’s somebody new, we’d be happy. You deserve to get over him.”

Hearing the sentiment vocalized is strange. Mingyu hadn’t applied any sort of deep thought to the way Hoshi was making him feel. But now, yes, in a way, Hoshi had helped him get through the break-up. It was stupid, but it was true. It was unhealthy, but it was true.

“It really is nothing,” Mingyu says. “It won’t go anywhere.” He answers too honestly and Minghao smiles softly.

“You don’t know that, Gyu,” he laments. “Maybe it will. It could just be some fun. You don’t have to fall in love with every guy you date.”

“Oh it is…definitely not love.” _One hundred percent not love, wanting to fuck him, maybe._ “Plus there’s some complications.” _Like he has a boyfriend and he doesn’t know me._

Seokmin hums, snuggling into Minghao’s chest. “Sometimes the complications work themselves out. You never know. Keep an open mind.”

◼

Mingyu is on the floor of his room after happy hour on the last day of his internship. His bosses take him out, give him too many beers, and Mingyu is still drunk a full two hours after returning home. He’s spread out on the floor to make sense of where the ceiling and ground are located, frustrated by how they spin. Minghao leaves him water that he stubbornly doesn’t drink. 

It’s the first time he’s been drunk since the week of the breakup and the last time it was a disaster. He ended up calling his ex, crying on the phone, making an absolute fool of himself. Now, calling him isn’t even a thought that crosses his mind.

The notification comes through like Hoshi knows his inhibitions are lowered. That he’s ready to do something stupid.

▶ ** _@hoshii is live_**

JW is on camera this time, but only from the chest down. Tall and skinny frame settled behind Hoshi and squeezing his hips gently. Hoshi hums, settles his cheek on his crossed arms on the bed where he’s kneeling and smiles to the camera. 

“Surprise,” he says with a laugh. “I know it’s late, but _somebody_ was horny.”

“By somebody, he means him,” JW snorts. He slicks his cock with lube, nudges it against Hoshi. When he presses in, Hoshi’s smile bends into a perfect ‘o’ and Mingyu squirms all over the floor trying to wrestle his pants off his body. 

“Is that why you’ve been fingering me for the last hour when I was trying to sleep?” Hoshi says breathily. He grips the sheets as JW pushes in, makes a filthy sound when he bottoms out.

“You got into bed complete naked and shoved your ass literally --” JW punctuates his words with a roll of his hips. “Literally onto my hand and said _please finger me_.” He does a perfect imitation of Hoshi’s voice and Hoshi smiles like he’s been caught.

“Why are you calling me out in front of our audience. You’re shattering the illusion.” 

“That you’re a total slut?” JW rocks into him, picking up a rhythm. “I’m pretty sure they know that.”

Hoshi laughs around a moan. “I am not a slut. Tell him I’m not a slut.”

JW pulls out, grabs the camera and comes back with the angle perfect above Hoshi’s back as he pushes his cock back into him. This angle is terrible, gives the same Mingyu the same perspective of their last live. It makes it too easy to imagine himself there, cock sliding into Hoshi so slow that he groans and shoves his ass back to him. 

Mingyu is so drunk he doesn’t even register his thumb sliding out a message across the screen. 

**_Gyu44: Wish that was me._ **

JW presses his palm flat on Hoshi’s back until his chest is flush with the mattress. He laughs. “They’re saying they wish it was them, baby.” 

Mingyu’s hand freezes on his dick. His brain catches up, sprinting after his reckless mouth that’s always twenty steps ahead. He can still see his message up on the screen, and none of the others are referencing anything close to what his did. 

His mouth takes off running again, brain in the dust.

**_Gyu44: Would you share?_ **

JW laughs, picks up his pace. “They want to know if I would share?”

Hoshi turns his head, just his profile on the screen. He’s smile, eyes narrowed. “Depends on what they look like. If they’re hot, then yes.”

JW snaps his hips up harshly. “The question was for me.” Hoshi keens, grips into the sheets.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t want to watch me.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t want to show off.”

Mingyu groans so loud he’s sure Minghao and Seokmin have heard. He works himself fast, image of Hoshi throwing his hips back against JW until their skin slaps together, loud and jarring. 

“Is that what you wanna do? Fuck somebody else with me in the room.” JW’s pace is punishing and Hoshi can barely even speak coherently.

“Uh-huh,” Hoshi gasps. “Wanna show off for you.”

“Just for me? I’m not convinced it’s just for me,” JW says, voice twisted up and tangled in the way he’s forcing his hips against Hoshi.

“Just for you. Please, please, please. Just for you.”

Mingyu comes, thinking about it being him. JW standing on one side of the room, Hoshi squirming in his lap, on his dick. Mingyu’s wrists held down against the bed, Hoshi’s grip on them edging on painful. Hoshi’s snarky little smile as he turns his head to look as his boyfriend, his happy little laugh as he says _just for you_.

The video ends as he drifts off to sleep on his floor, hand still down his pants, thoughts of Hoshi occupying what’s left of his mind as he loses consciousness for the night. 

◼

Finals week passes so quickly Mingyu hasn’t even had a chance to breathe. He’s in the library in the middle of the night. and he’s grateful for the extended hours so he can write his last essay. A perfect bookend to the most horrible term of college he’s ever experienced. 

He presses the SUBMIT button at 11:39 P.M. on the dot and leans back in his chair, stretching until the air conditioning the library ghosts over the sliver of skin exposed by his shirt riding up. He sighs, checks his phone. There’s ten texts from Seokmin and Minghao in their group chat discussing the finer details of the Mingyu’s birthday party they’ve decided to throw, and one notification from Hoshi on OnlyFans.

**_@Hoshii: Who’s ready for beach days?_ **

He’s standing in the reflection of his full-length mirror with the most gaudy neon yellow swim trunks Mingyu has ever seen. He’s making a stupid face with a big floppy sunhat on his head, sunglasses on the tip of his nose. Mingyu laughs, closes his phone, packs up his backpack and heads downstairs to drop of his Modern World History textbook at the front desk. 

A part of him is tired, and a part of him is excited to be _done_ with school for at least a week. He feels like he’s _fucking earned it_ after the way this term started. He’s climbed that entire mountain, and at the peak he realizes how strong he is. He’s even deleted his ex’s number, blocked him on Instagram. The view from the top is gratifying.

The library is almost entirely empty, most of the students relegated to the individual study rooms and the lobby is completely silent aside from the hushed conversation at the circulation desk. 

Mingyu is halfway down the stairs when he sees Wonwoo, head tipped back with laughter. He’s holding a travel mug in both hands talking to some guy sitting on his counter. The guy is being louder than he should be, his laughter reverberating off the slate tile. 

Wonwoo catches his eye and waves. Mingyu grins, lifts his book over his head triumphantly like Bender at the end of Breakfast Club as he descends the final steps.

“Are you done, dude?” Wonwoo calls.

Mingyu looks up and sees that the other guy is turned to face him now. And he drops the book onto the slate floor with a resounding _smack_.

The person sitting cross legged on the circulation desk counter has freshly dyed pitch-black hair, a big toothy grin, and eyes Mingyu would recognize anywhere. He stands, saying something like _are you ok?_ But Mingyu can’t really hear him, his thoughts are racing so loud it sounds like TV static when you turn to the wrong channel in a hotel room.

Hoshi jogs over to him, bends down right at his feet, and offers the book to him.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you ok? Seriously...you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Hoshi?” Mingyu asks incredulously and Hoshi’s eyes go so wide that they look like they’re going to fall out right out of his head. They stare at one another, same shocked expression, and Mingyu’s gaze flickers to the side where Wonwoo has come to stand.

Seeing the two of them side by side has several very important pieces of information fit suddenly fitting together. Like a puzzle that’s been almost done for weeks and you’ve finally found the last piece, stuck under the couch, just out of view.

“Oh shit” is all Hoshi says and Mingyu feels like he’s going to puke. 

Wonwoo looks between them, trying to read Mingyu’s expression. “This uh...Mingyu. He’s Seokmin and Minghao’s roommate.”

“Gyu…” Soonyoung breathes, like he’s completing a puzzle of his own. “Gyu44.” Wonwoo looks lost for a moment, and then his expression turns to utter dread.

“Sorry, I gotta go,” Mingyu swallows a thick cluster of spit. “I’m uh....it’s late.”

Mingyu shoves out the library so fast he practically runs straight through the glass of the revolving door. His cheeks are burning, eyes blinking rapidly as the tepid cold of the middle of the night hits his skin. His phone burns a hole in his pocket, and he yanks it out so fast it almost clatters onto the floor.

He deletes his account. Deletes the app. Storms through campus like he’s trying to jam his feet through the cement. 

What are the odds? _What are the odds?_ Out of all the people he could have been getting off to for the last ten weeks, it happened to be somebody that _he knows in real life_. Somebody that his _friends know_. Somebody who he will most likely have to see in his own house in less than two days at a party for his own damn birthday. 

Even the break up didn’t feel this terrible. It was a different sort of plummeting. Like when somebody says “this isn’t working anymore” it feels like the world is collapsing in on itself. This feels like standing in the middle of an explosion, atoms ripping away from themselves, shrapnel shooting in every direction. 

Seokmin is still awake when he throws the door to the apartment open and stomps through. He perks up off the couch and shoots up his eyebrows at Mingyu.

“Hey are you ok?”

“Yeah. I’m just stupid don’t worry about it.”

Seokmin frowns. “Do you want to talk about it, Gyu?”

Mingyu ignores him. “Hey, are Wonwoo and Soonyoung coming to the party? Did you invite them?”

“Yeah….they are,” Seokmin says carefully. “Why? Does this have something to do with them?”

Mingyu shakes his head, doing his absolute best to lie. “No, just wondering.”

Seokmin stands, rushing over as Mingyu makes his escape towards his room. Mingyu can’t face him, not right now. He’s so ashamed of himself he can’t possibly deal with Seokmin’s sympathy. He shrugs him off, gives him a faltering smile over his shoulder.

“Promise I’m ok!” he says, leaving Seokmin in the hallway as he shuts his bedroom door in his face.

◼

The party is on a Saturday at 8 P.M. 

Mingyu spends the days leading up to it like he’s on death row awaiting his sentence to be carried out. 

Minghao and Seokmin decorate the apartment with paper streamers and dollar store Happy Birthday decals. They put a massive amount of effort into the planning, the cake, the alcohol. It’s Mingyu’s first birthday since the breakup and he’s assuming the insanely large guest list has something to do with them conspiring to get him laid. Back on the horse so to speak. Mingyu appreciates the sentiment, and frankly he might take them up on the offer if for nothing else than to avoid Soonyoung and Wonwoo.

And he sounds ungrateful. What they’re doing is incredibly kind.. He thanks them at least a hundred and two times between all the time he spends internally castigating himself for his own stupidity. He and his ex had always gone on a trip for Spring Break to celebrate his birthday in the past. Minghao and Seokmin are doing everything they can to ensure he doesn’t dwell on it. And he might have been moping around the house thinking about him if he wasn’t so twisted into knots over the more pressing issue. 

“Don’t get too drunk,” Minghao says into Seokmin’s ear. He and Mingyu are going shot for shot before the guests have even arrived. Seokmin has a cone shaped party hat on his head and he smiles as he kisses Minghao.

“It was Gyu’s idea,” he slurs. He practically climbs into Minghao’s arms and Mingyu shrugs. 

“Lee Seokmin, you are the biggest lightweight who ever lived,” Minghao sighs fondly. Mingyu snickers, although he’s already pretty drunk himself. It’s the only way he thinks he’ll be able to handle Soonyoung being in his 700 square foot apartment without jumping out a window prematurely.

Minghao shakes his head as Seokmin nuzzles into his neck. “Get him water please, Gyu.”

The water helps very little. By the time people start arriving, Seokmin is already screaming along with Dua Lipa blasting in the living room. A number one hit off the carefully curated Fuck All Men, All My Homies Hate Men playlist Seokmin makes Mingyu for the occasion. The small space is crammed full with their friends. Most of them are Seokmin and Minghao’s friends or classmates since Mingyu lost most of his in the breakup. Still, he knows a few of them well enough. Jeonghan for instance, who shoves him down on his knees to give him a shot before he even says hello.

“Open up birthday boy,” he says, pouring tequila down his throat and letting him lick salt off his hipbone.

Mingyu clings to him without realizing, using him like a shield when _they_ walk through the door.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung show up at 9:30 P.M. Mingyu isn’t even by the door when they enter, but he can hear Seokmin scream his name across the apartment and catches Soonyoung jumping into his arms. “I am here to get drunk!” Soonyoung yells. 

Mingyu moves around them like repelling magnets forcing distance between each other. 

He hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the library, he was too embarrassed to make eye contact, head moving too fast to really acknowledge that Hoshi - _Soonyoung_ \- was standing right there a foot from the tips of his shoes. 

Now, he can really see him, feel that radiating energy like the crackle of electricity. He’s alike and he’s different from the persona on the screen. He’s just as hot as he is on camera, same sly smile and compact body. But now his body is shoved into too tight jeans, and his laugh is even louder. Now he’s a little more shy when he rocks up on his tiptoes to kiss his boyfriend on the mouth and lean against his shoulder. 

And he’s doing an excellent job of avoiding him except for the fact Soonyoung won’t stop looking at him.

Mingyu catches them _both_ staring. Wonwoo, who’s deep register dips into a whisper against Soonyoung’s ear. Soonyoung, when he laughs at whatever’s been said and looks to Mingyu like he’s in on the joke. 

Mingyu’s heart is beating out a staccato and he’s stupid enough to keep looking over at them. The way Soonyoung takes shots and gets more brazen with the way he’s staring. The way Soonyoung drags his eyes up and down Mingyu’s body. Mingyu might think he’s imagining it, and he does at first, but it happens so many times that it’s undeniable.

The party gets hazy somewhere between 11 P.M. and midnight. Mingyu isn’t even sure of the time. Jeonghan drags him out to the makeshift living room dance floor at some point. He lets himself float, Jeonghan laughing like a dope as they maneuver around the music. 

He hasn’t danced in so long and feels so nice to have a body moving against him the way Jeonghan’s does. And it’s strange, he’s known Jeonghan since he was eighteen and he used to be so scary. Just this insanely confident, stunning guy who flirted with him all the time despite knowing Mingyu was in a relationship.

In hindsight, the flirting back then pales in comparison to the way Jeonghan is acting now. He’s holding onto Mingyu’s sides, breathing hot against his neck as they move their bodies in synchronization against the music. Mingyu gets bold, grasps onto Jeonghan’s ass and curls a hand in his hair and Jeonghan’s body responds like an invitation.

Jeonghan vocalizes anyway, looks up at Mingyu with his tongue between his teeth. “You keep grabbing my ass like that and I’m going to start thinking you want to hook up with me.”

Mingyu should be over the moon, he should be dancing on the ceiling. Jeonghan is looking at him expectantly and Mingyu can just close that gap, initiate the proverbial rebound.

But, he catches Soonyoung on dancing just on the edge of his vision and his mind goes blank.

Soonyoung moves like liquid, back to Wonwoo’s front, and he’s unabashedly staring at Mingyu with as he grinds backwards with the beat of the music. He licks his lips, the pink of his tongue against the red plush of his mouth. It’s one see to see him through a screen, but seeing him in person is incredible. He’s too drunk to even realize how hyper-focused he is on Soonyoung’s mouth, how he’s biting his own lip as he watches them dance, until Soonyoung laughs.

Mingyu grabs hold of Jeonghan’s hips, tries to refocus, but Soonyoung is grinning at him and --

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

He excuses himself from Jeonghan’s hold on his hips. Jeonghan shouts after him as he stumbles down the hall to his bedroom. Through the wall he can hear the thud of the bass, the hum of voices. It makes his head swim as he throws himself on his back on his bed. 

Mingyu really can’t do this. Truly. He’s fucked. He shouldn’t have drunk anything, he shouldn’t have even come to his own party if he knew that Soonyoung was coming. He should have just skipped town after the library, told Minghao and Seokmin he was going back to his parent’s house.

Because he can’t hide anything from anyone, the only way to keep himself from being an open book is to put the pages out of reach. Because not only is this the most awkward experience of his life, but he’s fabricating some scenario where Soonyoung as actually flirting with him.

He has never wanted anything more in his life and that’s foolish. Foolish. Dumb. Stupid. All of the above. 

He hears a knock at his door, and he turns his head into the pillow as he shouts for whoever it is to come in. It’s likely Seokmin, or Minghao, maybe Jeonghan ready to question why the fuck he sprinted out of the room the second they were about to kiss.

But when he looks up, he’s surprised to find a mop of jet-black hair peeking around the door.

Soonyoung walks into his bedroom with Wonwoo behind him. Mingyu’s stomach plunges into a pit of utter fear and he jolts to sit up in bed. His mouth falls open, he goes to speak, but Soonyoung puts up a hand. 

Wonwoo stops near his small desk, leans so he’s resting on the edge. Mingyu glances at him and then looks back to Soonyoung who’s encroaching on his space slowly. His face is flushed from the alcohol and the dancing and the smile he’s carrying on his face is blinding. 

He gets himself right up to where Mingyu’s legs are on the edge of the bed, puts his palms flat on Mingyu’s knees, digs his thumbs in like he’s making sure Mingyu is paying attention. Mingyu thinks he might be dreaming, like maybe he hit his head on the way to his room or he’s in the hospital with alcohol poisoning or _something_. 

Soonyoung’s lips brushing against his is the first indication that he’s very much still living in reality. Mingyu gasps, jerks his head back and looks at Wonwoo with wide eyes. Wonwoo isn’t even looking at him, just observing Soonyoung with a closed mouth smile.

“Just kiss me, Mingyu,” Soonyoung exhales against his lips.

“But..” Mingyu protests. Soonyoung’s eyes are still closed, the tip of his nose half a centimeter from Mingyu’s.

“Just...don’t think about it too much. You wanted to know if we’d share, right?,” Soonyoung leans in to kiss him again, smiles right against his lips. Mingyu’s stomach jumps up into his throat knowing that Soonyoung knew every single comment he’d ever made while watching him. 

“Right?” Soonyoung repeats, leaning back to look at Mingyu’s thunderstruck expression. 

He nods in reply. “Y-yeah...yes.”

“Well then, we’re sharing,” Soonyoung laughs brightly.

Mingyu shudders and Soonyoung turns his head so he can slot their mouths together properly. Soonyoung hums, satisfied, and Mingyu feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He groans, hands scattering all over his bed as he wrestles with his own internal conflict. The impulsive side of him wins, and he wraps his arms around Soonyoung, jumps like he’s surprised to find his solid body there. 

If seeing him in person rather than on a screen is overwhelming, then touching him is something else entirely. His mind snags on the feeling of it. Soonyoung is firm and smaller than him, skin hot under the fabric of his t-shirt, burning almost, like he’s every bit the flame Mingyu imagined him to be. 

Soonyoung crawls into Mingyu’s lap and laughs into his mouth. Mingyu’s lips part as Soonyoung’s weight settles on him and it gives Soonyoung just enough space to slip his tongue inside, lick over Mingyu’s. Mingyu’s hands flex on his hips and _this is so fucked up_ but Mingyu is irresponsible and this is something he _wants_ and he can’t help put pull Soonyoung insistently closer before he can think too much about the implications of what he’s doing. 

Soonyoung rolls his hips downwards on him the same way he was moving to the music, a perfect curve of his body directed down against Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu groans into this mouth and over his shoulder he can hear Wonwoo laugh. 

Mingyu skims his hands up Soonyoung’s sides, over the fabric of his t-shirt, trying to take careful stock of all the parts of him he’d wanted to touch through the screen before. Soonyoung arches into his hands, responsive and preening. Mingyu touches the hem of his shirt and Soonyoung leans away to let it be pulled over his head.

“Is this ok? Are you sure?” Mingyu says, his brain always chasing after him, finally catching up to the moment. He’s looking over Soonyoung’s bare skin, palms come up to rest on the bulk of Soonyoung’s chest, as if he’s still expecting him to be fake under his hands. Soonyoung laughs. 

“We are both very ok with it,” Soonyoung says, reaching to take Mingyu out of his clothes. Wonwoo’s eyes are dark as he watches Soonyoung touch the defined muscle of Mingyu’s shoulders, of his chest, of his stomach. Soonyoung leans in, kisses against Mingyu’s neck and grinds his hips down again. “Is it ok with _you_?” Soonyoung asks against the shell of his ear. 

Mingyu seriously thinks he’s dreaming. He’s got to be.

He answers by kissing Soonyoung again, this time redoubling his efforts and holding both of his round cheeks in his palms. One hand drops to Soonyoung’s lower back and he pushes him forward, reveling in the way he can feel Soonyoung’s erection through his skin-tight jeans, pressing hard up against the middle of Mingyu’s stomach. 

Soonyoung pushes Mingyu backwards on the bed and Mingyu falls gracelessly with Soonyoung above him. He’s panting fast, watching Soonyoung with wide eyes as Soonyoung works at the buttons of Mingyu’s pants. He looks back over his shoulder and Mingyu tracks his gaze to Wonwoo in the corner. 

“Wanna watch me blow him?” he says to Wonwoo with a smirk. Wonwoo’s hands twitch on his arms where they’re crossed. He purses his lips, shakes his head.

“Do you want me to?” Wonwoo says. He uncrosses his arms, takes the distance between the desk and the bed in two strides, and rests a hand on Soonyoung’s neck. His lips brush against Soonyoung’s ear. “Do you want to suck his dick, baby?”

Mingyu suddenly feels like he’s watching them through a screen again. Like for a moment he’s left his body and is watching the scene unfold through a lens. Soonyoung presses his palm onto Mingyu’s cock through his underwear, turns his head to be kissed by Wonwoo, and Wonwoo grasps his jaw possessively as he licks inside his mouth. 

With a sigh against his lips, Wonwoo takes hold of Soonyoung’s wrist, guides his fingers so he can pull down the waistband of Mingyu’s underwear just enough for his cock to spring free. He opens his eyes, looking out the corners so he can guide Soonyoung’s fingers to trace down Mingyu’s shaft. 

Mingyu’s soul collapses back into his body like he’s fallen from a twenty-story building. His entire body arches up off the bed and Soonyoung is pulling away from Wonwoo’s mouth just to watch him. Nobody has touched Mingyu in almost five months and the sensation of Soonyoung’s soft palm on his skin has him feeling like a live wire, sparks flying in every direction, dangerous to touch.

“Do you want to get on your knees?” Wonwoo breathes against Soonyoung’s ear.

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, but he bites his bottom lip. “I thought you said you were just going to watch, not tell me what to do?”

“I thought you liked me telling you what to do? Isn’t that the whole deal?” Wonwoo smiles. He hooks his chin over Soonyoung’s shoulder, watches Soonyoung stroking Mingyu’s dick. Mingyu has to close his eyes, because something about a second person watching him get off is making him feel like he’s self-immolating. 

Soonyoung shuffles backwards on the bed and Mingyu shivers at the loss of contact. Wonwoo offers him a hand, helps him stand, as Soonyoung works to get the rest of Mingyu’s clothes off. 

Immediately, Mingyu is flushing head to toe at the way he’s standing completely naked with two people’s eyes raking up and down his body. He knows what he looks like, he knows he’s good looking, but after everything that’s happened, he can’t help the niggling thought in his head that he’s totally undesirable.

Soonyoung smiles starry-eyed as he gets on his knees, Wonwoo sitting on the floor beside him. He slides his palms up Mingyu’s thighs, over his hips, leans in to kiss just below Mingyu’s belly button. He’s close enough to the tip of Mingyu’s cock that his breath against it makes him twitch. Soonyoung’s teeth brush his skin as he says, “God you’re so hot, what the fuck, Mingyu.”

Mingyu anxiety snaps like a rubber band, tension forcing the fibers to break. He groans, settles a hand on the top of Soonyoung’s head and finds his fingers brushing against Wonwoo’s where his own hand is resting against the nape of Soonyoung’s neck. 

Wonwoo pushes Soonyoung downwards, and Mingyu follows suit, applying just enough pressure to nudge Soonyoung’s mouth where he wants it. Soonyoung looks up at him with a knowing glint in his eye, a proud sort of sparkle that shines even brighter when he flattens his tongue out over the plush of his bottom lip and licks a fat stripe up the bottom of Mingyu’s shaft. 

Mingyu feels unsteady, and Wonwoo reaches to hold his hip, thumb digging in just at the jut of his hip bone. He glances up at Mingyu and Mingyu swallows hard. Wonwoo keeps his eyes on him as he leans to kiss Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why are you teasing so much, huh?” he asks. “You asked me if it was ok to suck his dick, so do it.”

Soonyoung laughs breathlessly. He petulantly shrugs Wonwoo’s mouth off his shoulder, leans forward and grasps the base of Mingyu’s cock so he can guide it inside his mouth. Mingyu grips at his hair, yelps as sucks him down. 

It’s just like how it was on the live stream. Soonyoung looks up at him, a mischievous look in his eye, takes him inch by inch until Mingyu is shaking against Wonwoo’s hand holding him upright. His dick isn’t as long as Wonwoo’s, but he’s thicker, and Soonyoung’s lips stretch around him so prettily he feels like he needs to get his camera out and take a picture. A faraway part of him knows Soonyoung would probably let him if he asked.

“Do you have lube?” Wonwoo says. He isn’t even looking at Mingyu, his eyes are trained on Soonyoung’s lips, but the question is directed at Mingyu. 

Mingyu weakly motions to his bedside drawer, and Wonwoo leans away to pull out the bottle. He walks on his knees to get behind Soonyoung, starts working his pants down so his jeans and underwear trap Soongyoung’s legs closed.

“I wanna fuck you while you have his cock down your throat, is that ok?” he says, right against the back of Soonyoung’s ear, lip catching on the piercing there.

Soonyoung moans around Mingyu, and the vibrations shoot up and down his body until he’s pushing back on Soonyoung’s hair to get him to pull off. Soonyoung laughs, voice crackling from the way it’s been wrecked, and he cocks his head with a lazy hand moving up and down Mingyu’s length. “Do you need me to slow down?”

Mingyu nods quickly. “It’s uh...been awhile.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung smiles. “That’s pretty hard to believe considering what you look --” he gasps, eyelashes fluttering before his eyes go wide. He glances backwards. “God, Wonwoo, give me a fucking warning next time?”

Wonwoo laughs, peppers kisses across Soonyoung’s shoulders as his arm moves behind Soonyoung’s back, hands out of view. “Sorry,” he says. 

It’s strange, in a way, for Mingyu to watch a couple in front of him and not have his stomach clench in jealousy. Soonyoung and Wonwoo get lost in one another like they do when they’re on camera, eyes locked and mouths wet, slick, moving against each other as Wonwoo works him open. Soonyoung is bad at multitasking, barely even moves his hand on Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu doesn’t mind, finding himself happy just to watch.

Because, just the same as they are on camera, Soonyoung doesn’t forget his audience. 

He looks up at Mingyu, lets his mouth fall open, makes sure Mingyu is watching when he curls his tongue under Wonwoo’s front teeth and makes him gasp. He lets Mingyu see every flashing pass of pleasure across his face like a film reel moving through the clips in slow motion. Like he wants Mingyu to know every thought in his head, every response of his body to Wonwoo’s, to Mingyu’s. And Mingyu has never seen somebody want to be so on display before and Mingyu can’t tear his eyes away from it. 

Wonwoo works Soonyoung open with platitudes, voice low and gravely right against Soonyoung’s ear - just quiet enough for Soonyoung to hear and Mingyu to wonder what he’s saying. 

Wonwoo repositions himself right behind Soonyoung and wrestles Soonyoung’s pinned legs back enough line himself up. Soonyoung makes an overdramatic show of how he’s manhandled, laughing and jostling himself around. Wonwoo smirks and holds his hips steady with a firm grip until Soonyoung goes pliant in his hands.

“Make him come,” Wonwoo murmurs. He slides a hand down Soonyoung’s back. “Make him come and I’ll make you come.”

Soonyoung sighs and Mingyu braces his arms back on the bed as Soonyoung leans in and swallows him down without prelude. 

Whatever Soonyoung was doing to him before was actually him holding back, teasing. Now Soonyoung is working his throat down on Mingyu’s dick like he’s starving for it, sloppy and wet so spit gathers at the corners of his mouth. When Wonwoo pushes in all the way Mingyu can feel it, because Soonyoung cries out around him, pushes himself backwards into Wonwoo’s body to get him as deep as he can possibly go.

It goes so fast after that Mingyu thinks that time might be bending unnaturally. 

Wonwoo fucks Soonyoung hard, goading him as he yanks him back and pushes him forward, controlling the pace that Soonyoung can take both of them at once. Mingyu knows they’re being too loud, that even with the music and the people on the other side of the door, somebody is going to hear the way he’s gasping and knocking his own bed against the wall trying to keep himself standing.

Soonyoung watches him the whole time, eyes trained upwards like he’s mesmerized by Mingyu’s reactions to him. Mingyu’s brain reduces itself to ignore any external stimuli, the music, the harsh slap of Wonwoo’s hips against Soonyoung’s thighs, the shouts of a party that’s gotten out of control. All he can focus on is Soonyoung’s mouth, his eyelids sliding shut, the way his throat spasms against the head of his cock when he makes soft, desperate noises as he’s nudged too far down on it.

Mingyu’s whole body is feels like it’s on fire, skin barely containing the inferno, and _god_ he’s already so close and it’s too soon, but he’s stuttering out a babbling warning before he can stop himself. Wonwoo holds onto Soonyoung’s throat as Mingyu lets himself go and Soonyoung swallows him, sucks him too hard until Mingyu is chanting out _please, please, please_ between a litany of curses, until he’s scrambling to pull Soonyoung back by the hair. 

Soonyoung gives him a blunt-teeth smile, proud, as Mingyu clutches his hair. He tries his best to train his breathing, blink his eyes back into focus, but he feels like he’s been struck dumb.

“God you’re so good, baby,” Wonwoo grunts. Soonyoung laughs dazedly, lips slick with his own spit, and Wonwoo pulls him back to his chest. “ _Fuck_ …”

Mingyu falls backwards on the bed like he’s taking a seat in the front row at a show just for him. Soonyoung certainly makes it seem that way with his gaze heavy, watching Mingyu as Wonwoo fucks him to completion. 

He comes onto Wonwoo’s fist, with Wonwoo’s hand resting on his throat. Soonyoung rocks himself backwards as best he can, trying to keep his eyes open and watching Mingyu as the waves of his orgasm wash over him. Mingyu thinks he might get hard again just from watching Soonyoung writhing against Wonwoo’s chest, his cutting smile, like he’s taken every comment about how good he looks when he’s taking dick to heart.

Wonwoo finishes with a gasp and he loses his grip on Soonyoung so that they both tumble to the floor. Soonyoung’s legs are still trapped in the snare of his own jeans, but he kicks his legs out a bit anyway, laughing with a scrunched-up nose in Mingyu’s direction.

Mingyu laughs, too, because really, he’s still drunk and he’s pretty sure Soonyoung just sucked the braincells out of him, rendering him incapable of forming a cohesive sentence to describe what he’s feeling in this moment. 

Wonwoo rolls onto his back and Soonyoung rolls onto his stomach and both of them look to Mingyu with a matching smiles like they’re waiting for a thank you. 

“I uh…” Mingyu starts. _Words, come on, Mingyu, use your words._ “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

Soonyoung snickers. “Yeah well...neither was I.”

Wonwoo gives him a playful swat on the shoulder with the backs of his knuckles. “You literally asked if we could do this, what are you talking about?”

Soonyoung buries his face in his arms and kicks his toes into the carpet. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

They’re all quiet for a moment, and Mingyu worries at his lip with his teeth. He’s still ass-naked on his bed, two guys he barely knows, who are also in a relationship, breathing ragged on his carpet. “Is this weird?” he asks finally. 

“Is it weird for you?” Soonyoung replies earnestly. He rests his chin on his forearms, and Wonwoo is running his knuckles up and down his back in soothing patterns.

“No,” Mingyu says. “I mean yes. Yes and no. God, I have no idea.”

“He liked that you were watching,” Wonwoo supplies quietly. A zap of arousal shoots down Mingyu’s spine. “That’s why he asked.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung smiles. “It doesn’t have to be weird, I liked it.” He hums. “Can we talk about this later, though? Preferably after you clean the come out of me, Wonwoo. Coming inside of me was _not_ part of the discussion.” Wonwoo laughs loudly and goes to stand.

Mingyu looks at his phone, lying forgotten on his bed. There are a few texts from Seokmin that hardly make sense, a text from Minghao asking where he went so they can do the cake. “I should get back to the party.”

Wonwoo is buttoning his pants up when he looks at Mingyu. “We’ll be right out after you.” 

Mingyu gets dressed quickly, checks himself in the mirror of the ensuite and tries to pat his hair down into compliance. He looks completely fucked out, cheeks bright red from how much he’s had to drink and the exertion of _probably the best_ orgasm of his life.

He throws one look over his shoulder before he walks out the door. Soonyoung winks at him from the floor and Mingyu smiles back, bashful, as if Soonyoung didn’t just suck him off.

“There you are,” Jeonghan yells as he enters the living room. “I knocked on your door twice, but nobody answered.” He grabs Mingyu’s hand, pulls him through the crowd into the kitchen where his cake is sitting on the island, stuck full of twenty-two tiny pink candles.

Seokmin shouts a cheer and Mingyu is suddenly tangled between him and Minghao, and the party settles itself into momentary quiet as the crowd starts to sing. 

When Mingyu blows out the candles he forgets to make a wish. He could have wished for another relationship, for college to end in a few months without him dying of stress, for his internship to materialize into a job, for his boyfriend to experience karma after breaking his heart.

But when he looks up, Soonyoung is smiling at him from the other side of the countertop with Wonwoo behind him and Mingyu thinks maybe he got his wish this year without even having to ask for it.

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lithomancy) / [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/lithomancy)


End file.
